


now showing in theater seven

by shakespearespaz



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Gen, Honestly there's a lot here, One Shot Collection, Rainbows, Thirteen Fanzine (Doctor Who), Timey Wimey Stuff, bad powerpoint presentations, my attempts at world building, prompts that is, some OCs, space cruises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-08
Updated: 2020-06-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24600802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shakespearespaz/pseuds/shakespearespaz
Summary: Seven short one shots for the Thirteen Fanzine prompt week. Posting all of them now because my writing habits have been all over the place this week, and I was not writing them to schedule. Featuring bad powerpoint presentations, abandoned movie theaters, a planet of rainbows, Rose (Rose!), vacation trip try two for the fam, and more.
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/River Song, Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Kudos: 37





	1. space heist

When the Doctor came to her hands were tied behind her. She squirmed. The rope was rough against her skin, but beyond it she felt something smooth, and she didn’t seem to be tied _to_ anything.

“Comfortable?”

She twisted her head up to find him standing in front of her, hands on hips, those intelligent eyes cemented to her face. The smoothness beneath her was a couch, and that couch was in the still cabin like interior of the Master’s TARDIS.

“Master—”

He stopped her low growl by placing a finger in front of her lips.

“Shhh…I have something to show you.”

She wasn’t going to wait. The Doctor forced herself to her feet, but he had the advantage. One slight nudge and she was thrown off balance, thrown back onto cushions.

“None of that,” he rebuked, “Now, after my plan is complete, you won’t be around to see it. But I _have_ to see your face, so you’re getting a preview.”

He stepped dramatically to the side, revealing the projection screen behind him.

“You kidnapped me to give me a PowerPoint presentation?” the Doctor said dryly.

“I work better with visuals,” he snapped back defensively, before fiddling with the laptop on the side table.

He pressed the wrong button and the screen switched back to edit mode. The Doctor got a quick glance.

“Four hundred and thirty eight slides?!” she exclaimed.

“It’s mostly pictures—all equally essential, though,” he replied, “If I can just get this—hah!”

He gestured triumphantly. The lights dimmed, and the screen went back to presentation mode. The Master turned back to her, the clicker in his outstretched hand, the light from the projector picking up the smallest menacing gleam in his eye.

“May I present, Doctor….my ultimate and greatest plan!”

He clicked the button. Nothing happened. He tried again.

“Having performance issues?” she quipped.

“Shut up,” he hissed, “The clicker’s not working. Useless thing.”

He chucked the clicker violently into the corner and stepped forward to hit the button on the laptop. The next slide had a little speaker icon.

“Oh, I forgot I put this in,” he commented gleefully, “I’ve got a drumroll sound here.”

He clicked on it and nothing happened.

“For the love of Jupiter,” the Doctor groaned, “Just skip the multimedia.”

He swung his head from the screen to her and back to the screen, deciding.

“Okay, fine, but I will play them all back to back at the end.” He lowered his chin, hunched his shoulders, and laughed sinisterly. “This is the universe’s darkest hour, engineered by me…”

He scampered forward to the hit the button for the next slide on the laptop. He shuffled backwards to his place by the screen.

“It’s my….space heist!” he declared, “What do you think?”

The Doctor’s mouth was left slightly agape and her brow scrunched, as she tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“Sorry,” she asked, licking her lips, “You’re planning to do what exactly?”

“Oh, right!”

He scurried forward to move to the next slide, which included clip art of a grinning bank robber and a star which appeared to be playing tennis. He reversed into place again.

“I’m going to steal…space.”

He watched her for her reaction.

“Like…all of it?”

“That’s why I’ve got 438 slides.”

The Doctor nodded her head just once, considering.

“Huh.”

He leaned forward, hands back on hips, prompting her to share.

“So?”

“So,” she remarked slowly and thoughtfully, “You’re just going to…what? Start at one end, roll it up, and carry it off into the night?”

He beamed, bursting into a wide laugh that shook his entire body.

“Yes!” He turned his head back to the slideshow. “It’s genius, isn’t it?”

The Doctor pursed her lips and judged him.

“I’d say more like…ambitious.”

“Well, I’ve outlined it all here—”

He sighed as he took a step toward the laptop. The Doctor stopped him.

“Want me to get the slides for you?” she offered, gesturing to the set up.

“Oh, would you?” the Master answered nonchalantly, “That’d be great.”

She planted herself next to it, clicking through to the next image of a blurry multicolored graph with unreadable text.

“Now, you’ll have to forgive me,” the Master began, “I got this off the internet and—wait—”

He looked at her, as if he was putting together a puzzle in his mind, only the puzzle was staring him down with dark, innocent eyes and a calm face of phony compliance. The Doctor’s hand hovered over the next button as he calculated rapidly.

“I tied you up!”

“And I untied me!” she responded enthusiastically, “Also, I’m doing this.”

In one swift motion, she pulled her sonic out of her pocket, pointed it at the laptop, and made victorious eye contact with the Master as she deleted everything on the hard drive.

“Evil plans to take over the universe belong to me now!”

He lunged for her, but she was faster, sprinting for the door. She swung it open and turned to give him one last goodbye.

“See you later, dear,” she smirked.

She gave him a wink as she backed out of the TARDIS. By the time he got to the porch, she was gone, and he concluded she must have just leapt unprotected into the vortex.

“You can’t stop me, Doctor!” he cried into the darkness, but was met with only the cold, unfeeling swirl of time. He turned to go back inside, swearing his revenge.

“This isn’t over. I’ve got a back-up floppy disk, somewhere!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And this is the funniest one of them all...the rest is angst time. (But I managed to write these two not confessing their deep dark feelings for once!)


	2. haunted

The TARDIS complained as she opened the door, letting out a familiar series of chirps.

“Aren’t I always careful?” the Doctor retorted, “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Broken glass and dead leaves crunched beneath her feet as she took her first step. The space was dim, the ends of the corridors too far away to see in the dark and the dust. Light streamed from windows high above. Long ago most of the light here would have been from the yellowish marquees and swirling decorative neon lights. That was back when Earth was habitable and romantic notions held more sway. But the age of movie theaters was past, this building the crumbling evidence.

Beyond the grand entrance, the hallways snaked into the belly of the beast. Childlike patterns on the carpet retained their original brightness as she stepped into the shadows. Sunlight hadn’t touched this hall for years.

The Doctor moved into the dark, unafraid. What was the dark except the unknown, and what could we ever be without taking that first step into it.

The poster for the first theater she came to had been ripped down, half of a man’s angry face left behind. She continued, but the one eye left seemed to follow her.

Two steps around the next corner she froze. Voices in the theater on the left. She flattened against the wall. She crept to the projector room for a better view, pushing the stiff, creaky door open.

Large faces greeted her through a small window, and curiosity brought her forward. The film was still playing. Music swelled as a man asked a woman to love him for the rest of their lives. She watched for a moment, as the woman broke into an impossible smile and they sealed the declaration with a kiss.

The Doctor left the film running. No reason to interrupt their eternal cycle of love and conflict now.

She’d lost count of many turns she was from the TARDIS. The old signs guided her, as she kept looking for Theater 7. What she would find, she did not know, but this deep in she convinced herself she smelled popcorn, heard car chases, felt cool air conditioned air. It was a trick of the mind, she knew. Those had left this place long ago.

Theater 7 was tucked away at the end of a narrow hallway with only one door. She swung the black door open and entered.

The screen was blank. The seats still sat ready, like everyone had walked out yesterday, only to be replaced by dust. The Doctor moved to the middle of the seats, right in the center, pushing a cushion down and sitting. Someone had left a large soda in the cup holder, the straw sticking out, tempting her. The Doctor reached for it.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t.”

The Doctor looked up. River’s face filled the entire screen, curls escaping out of frame. She smiled gently down, beautiful and cinematic, as always.

“River—”

The Doctor was on her feet, leaping over the rows to get to the middle of the theater.

“Happy anniversary, love,” River said warmly, “Of course, if I’m here, that means I’m gone. But we’ve always had to be creative. I’ve had to plant a lot in the history books to keep this place standing, mind you. Telling people it’s…”

“Haunted,” the Doctor breathed, her face twisted up to the screen, face wide and open and enamored.

“Haunted,” River finished, “Oh, but it’s sentimental and human and so very _you_. People in the dark telling each other stories. Stumbling blindly back into the light a different than when they went in. Changed.”

River’s face blurred, and the Doctor realized it was her. Her eyes were wet, but it didn’t matter, no one could see her now, alone and in the dark.

“We never get enough time together. So here’s my gift to you. Some of the things you missed.”

The Doctor sunk to the floor as River began. Sometimes she heard the exact words, following along adoringly with the wild, enticing tales. Sometimes the Doctor couldn’t hear her, but could only see her wife’s face, alive and animated. Love overflowed, and she wished she had the same power some her other selves had over words, so that she might whisper a song back through screen at the missing piece of her.

But all she could do was ache.

Her wife’s visage was gone in a watery flood, as the Doctor let her head drop to the floor.

“Don’t cry, love,” River comforted, softly, across the years, “I know you are.”

“I miss you,” the Doctor mouthed, unable to make sound.

“And yet look at you!” she answered with pride, “You’ve done the hardest thing anyone’s ever asked of you. You kept going. You let our story stand.”

River’s gaze darted to the side.

“They’re about to take my camera,” she said with a slight roll of the eyes. “Apparently, it’s something called contraband.”

“No, don’t go,” the Doctor pleaded, finding her feet.

“I love you, sweetie.”

“There’s so much I have to tell you!” she cried back, “I’m the—”

The screen went dark. The Doctor choked on the words, as if saying them to a one-sided moving picture could really help. Then a sound, out of the darkness. The projector powering down. She pivoted.

There was definitely a shadow in projector room, a human like form. She ran.

By the time she got there she found the door open, the dust disturbed, the film gone, and the projector still warm. She was too late, like always. She reached into her pocket and dug out her invitation—a movie stub, with the time and date and theater printed in neat lines. The Doctor held the flimsy paper close.

She may have let their story stand, but she would never escape it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...aaand right back into the angst.


	3. what happened to your promise

Promise was awash in rainbows. Literally, the sky was rainbows. It was a rare phenomenon that required the perfect high atmosphere storm where rain started to fall but never quite reached the ground, combined with the illumination powers of the Sillican Mountain range standing tall and clear.

The rainbow storm covered the entire northern hemisphere, but the best view was in the cradle between the mountains and the colorful, shifting sky. There sat a town called Promise.

At least that’s what the TARDIS had translated it as last time she was here.

Last time, she wasn’t alone. The town had been bustling and busy, the narrow streets filled with locals and tourists alike. Now, it was empty. Doors were shut and shop windows closed, the street clean except for a few tumbleweeds. What had happened?

The Doctor continued her exploration on foot before turning a corner too briskly and plowing into someone. They both lost their balance, tumbling to the ground. A small girl with brown hair and wide brown eyes started startled at the Doctor.

“Oh, sorry,” the Doctor apologized, “Not good at looking where I’m going.”

The girl didn’t speak, only scrambled back to her feet.

“Where is everyone?” the Doctor asked.

The girl shook her head, backing away silently.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the Doctor placated, “In fact, if something’s wrong I can help.”

The girl turned and ran. The Doctor pursued, until she turned the next corner and the girl had disappeared. The rainbows still sparkled overhead, and she couldn’t figure out why anyone would leave this place. She ducked into a bookstore, looking for clues. It all sat perfectly organized, hardly even dusty. She took out her sonic. A couple of quick readings later and she was even more confused.

She was reading life signs, everywhere. Only she saw nothing, not even bugs. Promise was dead silent, but under the surface, something was still alive.

“You said you could help.”

The Doctor pivoted. The girl was back, standing in the open doorway.

“Yes!” she replied, before toning down the enthusiasm to not frighten her again, “I’m really good at it. Usually. What’s your name?”

The girl looked unconvinced. This time, however, she stayed.

“Elisa,” she replied, “They’ve all gone.”

“Gone where?”

Elisa shrugged, concern knit across her small face.

“Okay,” the Doctor continued, “How long ago did they go?”

She shook her head.

“Maybe a week. Maybe a year. When I think about it my mind goes all fuzzy.”

The Doctor took a cautious step towards her. The girl didn’t move. She slowly kneeled in front of the child.

“What’s the last thing you remember, Elisa?” she inquired gently.

Elisa looked nervously at the Doctor, brown morphed into purple in her eyes. She had rainbow eyes to match the rainbow sky, and they were shuffling through colors rapidly. She still didn’t speak.

“You were born here, weren’t you?” she asked.

Elisa nodded.

“Do you remember your parents?”

The eyes settled on a color, a deep red.

“I think,” she managed to get out, “I remember—I remember climbing the mountain with them!”

“Good,” the Doctor encouraged, “What else?”

Elisa’s eyes melted to a dark blue.

“I was mad and I ran away. Out of town and when I came back—”

The kaleidoscope of her eyes started rotating again, but the Doctor didn’t need that to recognize the panic behind them.

“Elisa, Elisa—” Her hands found the child’s shoulders. “We’re going to find them.”

“Promise?”

The Doctor couldn’t resist a knowing smile.

“Promise.”

The TARDIS complained when she returned with a child, the console and lights giving off their own rainbow show.

“Watch your language!” the Doctor scolded.

The TARDIS cooled off to a light blue.

“I need you to do multiple scans for me,” she instructed, turning the appropriate dials and readjusting the settings. “The sonic picked up life signs, but there’s no one there. So I’m thinking, they’re there, just not… _there._ Oh, you know what I mean.”

She turned back to Elisa, whose head was twisted up in wonder.

“Do you live here? It’s—it’s beautiful.”

Her eyes were changing color again as she took it all in.

“Well,” the Doctor replied, “I think where _you_ live is beautiful, Elisa.”

The console dinged, and the Doctor leapt back over to it. She ran her hand along the display, tracing the telltale patterns there.

“Oh, of course, I’m so _dumb_.”

The TARDIS hummed.

“Oi, don’t agree with me!”

The Doctor turned back to Elisa, speaking urgently with her hands, pointing to the readings her ship had returned.

“I found them. Something must have just _displaced_ them. I don’t know if it was intentional or not, but they’re here, just slightly out of phase with us. It may have been for protection.”

“How do we get them back?” Elisa asked, moving to join her at the console.

“Oh, I can totally do it. I’m an expert on doing things like this. I just need you to—”

As the plan clicked into place in the Doctor’s brain so did the reality of what she had to do. Anyone else and it wouldn’t have mattered—she’d done it to Graham, to complete strangers. Two trusting eyes stared up at her, though, the palest of pink, and she couldn’t even stomach the thought.

The TARDIS beeped.

“Yes, I know,” she snapped. She took a shaky breath in and tried to force out the memories crowding into her noisy brain space, of experiments and children too young to know what was happening to them.

“What do we do?” Elisa asked again, urgent.

The Doctor picked up the headset and knelt next to the girl again. She licked her lips and chose her words.

“I need to form a link to them. Which means I need someone who already has a connection. That means you.” She could feel the weight of the telepathic circuits in her hand. “You’re all I’ve got. Listen, Elisa, this will _hurt_. And even as it’s hurting, you have to keep thinking of them, not of the pain, of _them._ ”

“But they’ll come back?”

“The whole town should.”

The girl nodded, but her eyes betrayed her, flashing anxiously through the rainbow. The Doctor really didn’t want to do this, to hook a child up to the machine, to risk being wrong. She’d promised though.

Elisa did it.

Figures flickered back into the abandoned buildings, noise crept back into the streets, all around them life filtered back into this plane through tiny cracks that Elisa opened with her brilliant young mind. The missing town stabilized around them. As the ship sounded their success, the girl collapsed. The Doctor caught her, terrified that she’d once again been victorious at the precious cost of an irreplaceable living being.

Those eyes fluttered open, mirroring the hazel of the Doctor’s own eyes. She wished she felt relief, but only guilt tightened across her chest. She helped Elisa to her feet, and the girl grasped the Doctor’s hand.

“Let’s go find my parents,” she urged, tugging them both towards the door. When they reached it, Elisa paused, twisting up to the Doctor. “Also, you’ve got the name of the town wrong. In your translators. It’s not just Promise. It’s closer to…Your Promise.”

The Doctor smiled softly and let Elisa lead her through into the restored streets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so I didn't use it as a quote because I was trying to be ~creative~


	4. out of time

Fury shook the Doctor to her core, leaving her literally quaking in her boots. She felt small, useless and _used._ Whoever she was before, Gallifrey had made her into _this_. She wondered why she fought them so much. If they wanted to build their society on her back, then they had to deal with all that she was and all that she could do.

It was about time she got what _she_ wanted.

She knew the moment. The moment she wanted to make her move. It wasn’t the Time War, wasn’t resaving a race that was doomed by destiny anyway. It was a quiet moment, on New Year’s Eve, in the snow, on a council estate in London.

When focused, she could pilot with dangerous precision. She materialized just after her prior self left the scene. She managed to catch her before she got to the stairs.

“Rose.”

Rose turned, still smiling from the moments before, although her brow furrowed at the sight of the woman before her. The Doctor stood in the snow, out of breath. The cold of the snowflakes lingered against her warm skin and there was something comforting about the cold air in her lungs. She felt alive.

Rose looked just as she always remembered her, brilliant and candid, caught in one of those small moments that effortlessly eclipsed the monumental.

“Sorry, do I know you?” Rose asked.

“Come with me,” the Doctor urged, “There’s a universe out there. and I want you to see it. I won’t lose you, I promise.”

Rose turned fully towards her, taking a step forward without thinking. This stranger had that effect.

“I was just heading to bed,” Rose countered, “And I…I don’t know who you are. I get that it’s New Years, mate, but there’s a lot of you out tonight.”

“I’m different.”

Rose took her in, head to toe, and laughed.

“I’m sure you are.”

The Doctor took a deep breath in.

“What have you got to lose?” she declared, opening her arms wide in the snow, “Come with me, please. Anywhere you’ve ever wanted to go.”

This woman was tempting, so needy but so inviting. Rose smiled again, but didn’t laugh.

“You must have had a lot,” she remarked quietly, kindly, “You okay getting home?”

“I can get her home.”

The Doctor turned at the voice. Her past self remained. He lingered in the shadows as they often did, waiting until someone needed saving to reveal themselves.

“No,” the Doctor hissed at him. Having her own past here made this moment in time that much more complicated.

He leaned in.

“ _What_ do you think you’re doing?” he asked, eyes darting angrily between her and Rose.

The Doctor didn’t come here to mince words.

“Getting what I want,” she explained calmly and slowly.

He gave a half shake of his head.

“No. Not like this. Not with her. You are out of bounds. This isn’t your time.”

She pulled herself up, into his smug face.

“No, you’re the one out of time,” she spat, “Go die and let the rest of us live.”

She bared her teeth, staring up at herself. He countered by raising his voice, the disdain breaking through.

“Are you going to take it all away from her?” he asked incredulously, “Step in here and rob her of all the _good_ times.”

The Doctor blinked and in the same brain, they were both remembering. Running and laughter and picnics and bad puns and the successes that were always, always overshadowed by the failures. Despite the barrage of images, there was only one picture clearer than the rest. The present past and her past self looking down, disappointment clouding his eyes.

“I always thought,” he began softly, “I always thought we’d get better.”

Shame overwhelmed, but she wasn’t giving up that easily.

“We do,” she managed to get out, guiltily, “But your time was so brief, compared to some of us.”

It was his turn to be struck by his own eyes staring up at him. They were so much older, and he already felt ancient.

“None of these times are ours,” she continued, her voice breaking on the last word, her pain glowing from within, “ _They_ are all we belong to. All we get.”

He didn’t understand, not yet. He didn’t have a response, but luckily he didn’t need one.

“It’s really cold,” Rose interjected.

She wrapped her arms around herself as the two warring parties turned to her.

“So, um…I’m gonna go inside now. I hope you sort this out. But if you need water, snacks, a cab, I’m on the top floor.”

The older Doctor looked from Rose to her past self, sympathetic and protective and proud all at once. She knew what she had to do, as the fight and the light retreated to their hidden corners once again. She turned back to Rose, a small cloud escaping her lips as she exhaled into the cold night.

“Sorry about this, Rose,” she conceded gently, “One day, you’ll understand.”

Rose gave a smile brighter than every star the Doctor had ever seen.

“I can’t wait.”


	5. inner demons

“Unlimited food. Unlimited games. Unlimited pool time. Unlimited space views—”

“Unlimited alcohol?” Ryan interjected.

“Unlimited alcohol,” the Doctor confirmed, before clarifying, “Just stay away from anything with a pink label, unless you fancy turning purple with orange polka dots and being unconscious until the end of the cruise. Repeat after me: not all alien alcohol is suitable for human consumption.”

None of them repeated after her.

“And there are no horrifying apex predators and we absolutely sure this is not Earth?” Graham prodded.

“Does this—” the Doctor began, pointing over the railing at the vertical, icy walls of the asteroid they sailed through, with a brilliant orange gas giant peeking at the end of the chasm, “Look like earth?”

“We said that last time,” Yaz pointed out.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got a very good feeling that this will actually be a vacation.”

“Famous last words, mate,” Ryan said.

“What was that, Ryan?” the Doctor shot back, “Thank you, Doctor, for taking us on so many fun adventures some of which just happen to be more adrenaline inducing than others?”

“Yeah sure, Doc,” Ryan mumbled, “I’m gonna go see if they’ve got alien basketball.”

“And I had to take a raincheck on my last date with a pool lounger,” Graham said, “I’m overdue.”

They headed down the deck, off to enjoy their space cruise. The Doctor turned.

“And how about you, Yaz?”

Yaz didn’t look at her, instead watching the sharp, grey walls of the asteroid.

“I think I might just take a walk.”

“Oh, want company?” the Doctor asked.

Yaz was getting better at saying no to the Doctor’s eager face.

“By myself, I think.”

The Doctor nodded her head several times, although she still didn’t quite get it.

“No worries. I’ll just go…” She drummed her fingers on the railing as she thought. “I’ll just go make sure I parked the TARDIS correctly. Hate getting parking tickets. Never have any money to pay them with and apparently show tunes aren’t a universally accepted form of currency—”

“Doctor…” Yaz interrupted.

“I know, I’m rambling again. Sorry. See you later?”

Yaz swallowed and nodded, saying nothing. She turned to head the opposite way down the deck, hand running along the handrail as she went. The Doctor watched for a moment before returning to the TARDIS.

Upon her return, the TARDIS beeped loudly. She wasn’t expecting an alarm this far into the uncharted regions. The Doctor had chosen this cruise because of their ridiculously high safety ratings, but that didn’t completely eliminate all risk. There was only one option: solve this problem on her own and leave the fam in ignorant bliss.

The TARDIS alarm was telling her that the disturbances were near the port bow, a couple decks down. She fashioned together a handheld detector device out of a can, some take-out menus, and an etch-a-sketch and secured the TARDIS. The Doctor wandered the halls, head bowed to track the blinking red light through the narrow passageways.

Her mind raced. Maybe it was an alien creature, captured and smuggled away, and she could dole out justice to the perpetrators. Or, even better, maybe it was a mechanical malfunction, something she could fix, to keep the massive ship in flight. Or possibly, here in the rocky regions of space, in the bowels of this monstrosity, she’d find pure evil itself, a demon that—

She froze. She’d pushed open a bulkhead door into a private cabin and was looking exactly where the detector told her it detected a detectable disturbance.

Sitting on the bed was Yaz. Red, watery eyes looked up in shock at the Doctor.

“Yaz?”

The homemade device was flung to the side and the Doctor was in front of her, kneeling.

“What’s wrong?”

Her eyes drifted over her companion, searching for visible injuries, anything out of place. She saw nothing and yet the TARDIS had seen something. Maybe it was inside—

“Nothing,” Yaz got out, her voice hoarse. She shrugged her shoulders. “Nothing is wrong.”

“But the TARDIS, and you’re crying—”

Yaz gave her a pained smile.

“That’s just it. Everything’s fine. We’re happy and safe and together. I’m still sad. _Stupid_ me.”

“No,” the Doctor answered, more forcefully than she wanted, “Not stupid you. You’re not stupid, Yaz. You’re the smartest, best—”

“Then why,” she interrupted, voice barely above a whisper, “do I feel like this?”

“I don’t know,” the Doctor urged, “but we can find out.”

Yaz shook her head.

“You can’t fight these demons head on, Doctor.”

The Doctor found her eyes, and gently placed a hand on Yaz’s leg, squeezing softly.

“They're demons that you have to reason with day after day,” the Doctor said flatly, numb but understanding, “Year after year, learning how to talk to them, and knowing that they’ll always be there. Hopefully quiet. Sometimes deafening.”

Yaz nodded and another tear escaped her eye.

“Doctor,” she began, shakily, “Can I—can I hold your hand?”

The Doctor hesitated, but finally reached out, lacing her fingers with Yaz’s. She didn’t love the sensation, but she liked how she could feel Yaz’s faint pulse through her skin, beating slower and slower as she calmed. Out of the corner of her eye, the Doctor saw a darkness. She turned her head to the window.

“I think we’re passing the Inky Waterfalls of Yonst,” she offered to Yaz with a small smile, “You want to see?”

They moved to the window, hands still tightly intertwined. Through the circular porthole they could see solid black water pouring over the sides of a passing asteroid, gravity defying and breathtaking.

“It’s not actually water,” the Doctor pointed out, “It’s far too cold out there for that. It’s an organism, who’s found its place on a small rock floating through space, wrapping its extremities around its home, squeezing tight.”

Yaz thought she knew how the creature felt. She watched the Doctor watch the beautiful sight, both peculiar and loving, strange and wondrous.


	6. eyes

They stared at her.

The thick steel of the prison doors contained them, but every slot in every door was open. As she ran by, they watched her. A set of eyes looked out from each cell, witnessing, judging, condemning. The faster she ran, the more she was seen.

The row of cells never ended, and it never curved or split. It continued infinitely in either direction. She may not have been in a cell, but she was trapped.

When her feet felt close to bleeding, the soles of boots wearing thin, and every muscle aching from the sprint, she stopped. She wanted to sit, to sink into the cold floor, but if she paused now she might never continue.

She flung herself against the wall, rolling over to the door. She made fearless eye contact with the clear blue eyes on the other side.

“Who are you?” she demanded.

“Who are you,” the eyes asked back.

It was no verbal response, instead the words echoed around her brain in a voice that was familiar but elusive. She slammed her hand on door, the clang echoing eternally down the cell block with no end.

“Tell me!” she hollered, desperate.

“Tell me,” came the equally desperate reply, her own scorching need thrown back into her face.

She darted to the next cell. Green eyes.

“You—” she began.

“You,” it mirrored.

She forgot her words. They were no use here. She summoned all her sore muscles, every ounce of energy left in her body and ran. As she went she rattled the doors, confronting each one with swallowed rage, banging on them as if she could shake this world apart with her own agony. She continued until she tripped, the cold concrete floor catching her with little mercy.

“What do you want from me?” she whispered into the ground, closing her eyes for a brief moment of peace.

The unholy keep whispered back.

“Carrot juice.”

The eyes across the way had spoken. They stirred something, something she couldn’t quite reach, but couldn’t stop grasping for.

“Don’t mock me,” she spat back.

The voice repeated the nonsensical words. This time they were not alone.

“Keep warm.”

That felt like a foothold. The Doctor flew to her feet, using the door to support her. Those eyes, _those_ eyes, she knew, from a dream, a lifetime ago. Still, they told her nothing through their rectangular confinement.

“It’s the end.”

They were finally speaking to her; finally she was getting the clues she needed. She turned back down the row, searching for the eyes that were reaching out. The trouble was they were all noisy now.

“And you know what?”

The eyes on her left startled her. She halted, glued to the floor, as they kept speaking.

“So was I!”

Realization flooded over her like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, goosebumps erupting across her skin even in the already freezing air.

“No,” she breathed, racing to the next cell.

Dark brown eyes overflowing with longing and pain looked out at her. She knew what they would say a moment before they spoke.

“I don’t want to go.”

She pulled on the cell door hard, but it was still locked. She had to move on. The next door wouldn’t budge but those eyes were calmer, reassuring.

“I’m trying!” she urged, feet against the wall, tugging at the door.

Still those eyes spoke.

“I will always remember when the Doctor was me.”

She crossed the hall and came face to face with the first crystal blue eyes.

“Please,” she bellowed directly into the slot, “Help me!”

She shook this door with a fury, her recent past so close yet unreachable, as she dared not consider the impossible, infinite, and unknowable that was imprisoned here. She lost her breath as she shouted, and argued and pled, but still the inevitable arrived.

“Doctor,” those eyes caressed, even as the panic built, “I let you go.”

She woke up with a gasp.

She was alone in her own cell, her mind aware that the torture was over. Still, her body held onto the fear, hearts racing, stomach turning, breath shallow, and every muscle immobile in the face of lingering, relentless, all consuming terror.


	7. it's not always black and white

The cliff was her favorite vantage point. Not many people knew about it, for the tourists would wander around the jungle paths below, ignorant of the impressive vista that lay above. The hike was always worth it, and she would reach the top out of breath both because of the climb and because the sight below left her so.

The Endless Black and White Jungle was more properly to be called the Greyscale Jungle. Not a hint of color existed, making for an attraction that seemed more like a photograph or a dream. Reality was supposed to be rendered in Technicolor, but the absence of any native creature with color sight led to a wholly unique evolutionary creation.

The Doctor went there to reflect. It was a place where the universe, just for a moment, could be slightly simpler. Not today.

When she crested the final hill, she found herself—that is the version she been introduced to as Ruth—sitting on the edge already. The woman turned as the Doctor emerged from the bushes.

“What are you doing here?” they accused simultaneously.

“Sometimes you need a break,” the other Doctor said, turning back towards the view, “You can stay or you can go. I don’t care.”

The Doctor took a deep breath, still finding her breath from the climb. A few shared moments couldn’t hurt. She joined herself. She swung her legs over the edge, dangling them over the monochrome expanse below. They sat in silence, a warm breeze stirring trees and hair. The older Doctor couldn’t help herself, couldn’t stand the quiet when there were answers to be had.

“What do you know about us?” she asked, as the wind rustled blonde hair into her face.

The other Doctor gave a quiet laugh.

“I know you need a better hairstyle,” she quipped, “Tell me…do you have to keep dyeing it?”

“I regenerated like this, okay!” she responded in defense.

Her past self smirked and turned back to the view.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I know what I know. And what I _do_ know is it’s hard to believe we’re the same being. You’re so much more…”

Her eyes scanned the view as she searched for the right description.

“…sunshine and rainbows and being a meddling fool.”

“Oh, like you never meddle.”

“Only when it’s needed.”

“Well, I—” The Doctor turned and met her deep brown eyes. “Only meddle when needed too.”

Her other self nodded, a smile behind those eyes, a moment of understanding in the heavy evening air.

“I owe you a thank you,” the older Doctor continued, “You helped me through something recently. Well, you weren’t really there, but the idea of you was.”

The Doctor shifted as she considered the words of her future self.

“You’ve got a lot to thank me for,” she said dryly, “Without me, you wouldn’t exist.”

“That’s true.” She didn’t let more than a second pass before her curiosity pressed her on. “Did Gallifrey find you again?”

The Doctor didn’t like being interrogated. She shifted uncomfortably.

“Not yet. But I can tell from your face that you seem to think they will.”

“How could you have worked for them?” The Doctor’s need to know came pouring out. “How could _I_ have worked for them? What did they _do—_ ”

“Stop it with the questions—” she hissed through gritted teeth, “Your relationship with Gallifrey is obviously far more complicated than mine. And trust me—mine’s complicated already.”

The other Doctor fell quiet, although she could practically feel her biting her tongue, for after all they were the same.

“It’s a grey area, like this jungle,” she expounded forcefully, “You can’t tell me you’ve managed to get all your moral ducks perfectly in row.”

The blonde head shook and stayed quiet.

“Alright, my turn to ask a question,” she declared, “Is Gallifrey really gone?”

The other Doctor hadn’t been expecting that and her head jerked up, eyes wide. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to, for the Doctor of the past understood what that heavy gaze said about her future. The future gulped and lost herself again in the view. The past had seen something else in those eyes.

“If it’s truly gone,” she asked, “Then tell me why you’re secretly alright with that.”

“It’s not black and white,” the Doctor responded sharply, “It’s not even grey. It is its own full on ball of—”

She frowned as she lost her words. The other Doctor didn’t need them.

“I get it.”

“What do you do,” the future Doctor asked, in a measured voice that at any moment could betray the turmoil within, “When your own home has always been against you? Where do you stand then?”

The other Doctor took several steady breaths before giving the best reply she had.

“You tell me, and we’ll both know.”

They didn’t say anything else. In several hours the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the grey world below in the warm light of sunset. Dark shades turned to rich chocolates, lifeless greys to golden browns, and blinding white to champagnes, with the lightest touches of pink and orange painting the complicated, twisted landscape.

It didn’t last long, but for a brief moment, all those shades of grey comprised a fleeting, shining, hopeful wonder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a nice excuse for me to escape my WIP for a bit and mess around. Thanks for the prompts and thank you for reading!


End file.
